Words, words, words
by Recall the Love
Summary: A collection of unrelated Bechloe drabbles using a one word prompt, with the goal of writing them in only a few minutes. More to be added later.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I keep getting stuck in long fics that I'll never finish, so I decided to do this challenge where you're given a random word and sixty seconds to write as much as you can about it. All of these were written in that time limit (with another minute or two just to finish them up) so they're extremely short and unrelated. **

**I hope you guys get at least some enjoyment out of it, and recommend trying this challenge to people with writer's block. The time limit is arbitrary, really, it's just about forcing yourself to write.**

**Also, I'm sorry they're all in Beca's POV. That's just what I ended up doing naturally.**

* * *

**Elevator**

'I can't believe you got us stuck in here,' Beca complains, leaning her head back on the wall. And that they're going to be another _half an hour _before they fix it.'

'It's not _my_ fault.'

'Not your fault my ass. You just can't keep it in your pants, can you?'

At that, Chloe looks a little guilty. 'Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.' She sighs, tilting her head back the same way Beca is. 'How are we going to explain this one to Aubrey?'

Beca laughs incredulously. 'We? Oh no, Chloe. You're the one who pressed the emergency stop button, so _you_ can be the one to explain to Aubrey why we missed practice today.'

Chloe attempts to argue, but then, seeing the glare Beca is sending her, relents grudgingly.

'Being stuck in an elevator is not as cool as it looks in the movies,' she grumbles.

**Mimic**

'Beca, why is it taking you so long to learn these dance moves?' Aubrey barks, making Beca jump. She'd just been innocently dancing on her own... Okay, she'd kind of just been moving back and forth for a while, pretending she was joining in. 'They're simple steps!'

'I doknow them!' Kind of. Sort of. At least, she knows them in theory, it's just that her arms and legs don't really want to join in.

'Then why on Earth are you just swaying back and forth like that?' Aubrey pinches the bridge of her nose for a moment, before looking to her co-captain. 'Chloe, ugh, can you just... _Handle _her? I think I'm getting a migraine...'

Aubrey stalks off to go sit down, leaving Chloe to approach Beca with a somewhat apprehensive look on her face.

'Umm... d'you want to just watch me do it so you can see the steps again?' Chloe asks. When Beca nods, Chloe seamlessly falls into the choreography for "I Saw the Sign", half counting out loud, half singing, and just generally looking extremely adorable.

It's only a minute later, when Chloe stop, that Beca realises she's been distracted by the bounce of Chloe's hair when she moves (and if she's being totally honest, the bounce of other things), thus missing all of it.

'Uh... Sorry, I got distracted. Can you show me again?'

There's a collective groan from the other Bellas, but to Chloe's credit, she just rolls her eyes and smiles, which Beca returns sheepishly.

**Calendar**

'When is it you're coming back to visit us again?' Beca asks, even though she already knows. She's asked like ten times already, in the hope that Chloe might suddenly say 'I changed my plans, I'm coming back today – surprise!'

But unfortunately, that day still hasn't come, as Chloe tells her sadly, 'It's still a while yet, Bec... But we're getting closer to it every day, right?'

Beca sighs, and puts an X through another day on her calendar. 'Yeah, I guess...'

**Garage**

It's not like Beca hasn't always known that Chloe was messy (seriously, she found that out the first time she came to Chloe and Aubrey's shared apartment and looked in Chloe's room. Apparently Aubrey was the only one keeping the two of them tidy). But this... This is kind of ridiculous.

'Chloe, what the actual fuck?! I swear, there must be like a gene for messiness or something!'

'What?' Chloe hollers back. 'Beca, I can't hear you very well. Where are you?'

'I'm trapped!'

'Where?!'

'Where do you think?!' Beca jiggles some of the boxes that fell down around her, narrowly missing her head and injuring her, but effectively trapping her behind some discarded furniture that the Beale family apparently didn't feel like having in their house anymore. She hears shifting noises and knows Chloe is probably trying to dig her out. 'I am _never_ helping you or your family clean again!'

**Assumption**

The first time Beca meets Tom, he assumes – somewhat understandably, although that doesn't make Beca feel any better – that she's just a friend of Chloe's. Never mind that she's a friend that Chloe has seen naked in the shower, and in fact has seen Beca naked in quite a few other situations since.

And okay, maybe they're not _official_, and they've never said they were definitely exclusive. But surely that doesn't automatically mean that they aren't.

And Chloe very definitely does not correct him throughout the whole night. The two of them sit there, with Tom flirting with Chloe quite blatantly, Chloe half blushing and trying to deflect him, but obviously not trying hard enough. He barely says a word to Beca, and despite Chloe's attempts to bring her into the conversation it's hard to feel motivated to join in when Tom keeps butting in with talking about sports and other crap that Beca knows Chloe has no interest in.

She finally snaps when Tom makes thinly veiled innuendos about ditching Beca and going home together; she slams down her glass and stands up.

Chloe looks up at her in alarm. 'Beca, what...'

'If you want to go with him,' she tells them, voice only just barely kept level, 'be my fucking guest. Just don't expect me to be there for you to come home to the next day.'

She wants to say more, to call Chloe out, but all she can feel is hurt welling up in her chest – especially when she gets out of the door, and Chloe doesn't run after her.

**Smile**

A large part of dating Chloe Beale, Beca finds, is adjusting to the idea of having to potentially pose for a photograph any time, any place. As a person naturally adverse to the camera (unless she's behind it, that's not so bad), it takes her a long time before she stops extricating herself from Chloe's grip and simply running away, or making weird faces at the camera just before the shutter closes.

Chloe whines at her every time this happens, giving her puppy dog eyes until she gives in and does it properly.

And after a while, Beca realises she's started skipping the running away bit and just grimacing automatically in a poor imitation of a smile.

And soon after, Beca starts smiling properly, because she secretly likes how Chloe's eyes brighten up with happiness when she does so.

And some time after _that_, Beca even begins suggesting herself that they take one, when they're in a new place or doing something interesting together.

It's only when she sees Chloe put a photo of them kissing as her Facebook profile picture that she realises: oh God, they've become one of _those_ couples.

And she really doesn't give a shit, because she's too busy smiling and taking dorky photos with her girlfriend to care what other people think by now.

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**A/N: I can't promise anything, but if you guys particularly want me to expand on any of these, I might write a one-shot around it. Also, when I get time I'll add more drabbles.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so these are quite obviously written in more than a minute, haha. Oops! Maybe I should just drop the whole time limit thing and just write (increasingly random) drabbles. I'm sure you guys don't care either way. XD**

**And I'm not going to lie, one of these ficlets is part of a larger story I've been trying to write for a while already but haven't been able to get off the ground, which I'm disappointed about. I'm not saying which one (it'll probably be obvious) but I'm curious to see if there's any interest in it.**

**Also, the general consensus seems to be that I should expand on 'Assumption' from last time, soooo... I'll see what I can do.**

* * *

**Flute**

'You play?' Chloe asks in surprise, picking up the flute that she just found in Beca's closet. Not that she was snooping or anything – Beca is in the room, after all. It's just that Chloe sometimes just gets curious. She only intends to glance in one drawer, and before she knows it she's pulling open every door and searching every nook and cranny, demanding explanations for everything she finds. Still, Beca doesn't seem to mind... Or maybe she's just gotten used to it, if the mildly exasperated expression she's wearing right now is anything to go by.

'Used to. Before I really got into the DJing stuff.'

'How long did you play for?'

'I dunno. Five years? Then I picked up the clarinet and the piano as well. Although after a while I got bored of them and antsy to try something else so I used to go to my cousin's house all the time and beg her to let me play her guitar before my dad got me my own...' She trails off when she realises Chloe is staring, wide eyed. 'What?'

'How many instruments do you play, exactly?'

Beca shrugs, like it's nothing. 'I don't know! A few, I guess? I never really thought about it.'

'And you say your dad bought you these things?'

'Yeah... Although I bought the DJing equipment myself. Took ages to save up.' She smiles a little, proud of herself even though Chloe knows she's trying to hide it.

Chloe turns over the flute in her hands. Despite its obvious age, it's still good quality, and probably fairly expensive. Beca's dad would have had to drop a fair bit of money to get this for his daughter, along with all the other instruments he seems to have bought her over the years.

She glances up at Beca, seeing her curious look. 'Beca, are you sure your dad thinks your music is "just a hobby"?'

**Age**

'Hey birthday girl,' Chloe breathes into her ear as she steps behind Beca, putting her hands on her arms and squeezing with just a little too much pressure to be friendly. Although Beca flinches a little, no one around them notices, though; they just go on getting drunk, (presumably) in Beca's honour. 'How are you enjoying your party?'

'It's good,' Beca replies awkwardly. Not just because of the situation, but because Chloe is pressing herself too close, enough that she can actually feel the button on her jeans digging into the small of her back. 'Great, even.'

'You don't look like you're having a lot of fun.'

Beca searches desperately for some sign of slurring in Chloe's speech, anything to explain what's going on in a way she can understand (_Chloe + alcohol = extra touchy feeliness, it's simple math) _but there isn't any; and Chloe's breath, which is blowing over the left side of her neck, merely smells of something fruity that she doesn't have the brainpower to place right now.

Beca knows that Chloe's sober. And that means there's absolutely no reason for Chloe to be gently sliding her hands down to her waist, pulling up her shirt just an inch so she can run the pad of one finger beneath the material covering her hip. No reason for her to move her mouth so close to Beca's ear that her lips almost touch the skin...

And there's definitely no reason for her to ask, 'How can I make this better for you?' in such a seductively low voice that seems to reach something deep and primal in Beca, making her squirm ineffectually and sweat break out on her back.

'Is this a dream?' she chokes out eventually – because this is too much to possibly be real.

Chloe just chuckles, as her lips attach themselves to Beca's pulse point and draw a laboured gasp from her. 'Which would you prefer?'

**Military**

'It looks ridiculous,' Beca groans, as soon as she sees it. 'Why did you have to get a pink one?'

'Well, I was going to get you one of the camouflage pattern ones, but it turns out those don't really exist.'

'They should!' says Beca indignantly, planting her hands on her tiny hips and drawing Chloe's gaze down there too, destroying her concentration. 'Surely there's a gap in the market for that, for gay military dudes or something. We could make a fortune. I might start making business plans now, in fact.' At this she starts to scramble off the bed, and Chloe comes to her senses in time to grab Beca' ankle as she tries to flee.

'Whoa there. I went to the trouble of buying and putting on this thing, the least you could do was let me try it out.'

'I never asked you to buy it,' Beca grumbles, as Chloe drags her back by the foot and straddles her hips. Beca glances down between them, grimaces, then looks very deliberately up at the ceiling.

'Don't play that game with me. You and I both know you wanted me to see that website.'

'You have no proof, Beale.'

'No proof, huh? So you're saying I should just take this off and put it away, huh?' Chloe pretends she's going to get off the bed, but Beca makes a completely adorable and involuntary little squawk of protest. 'Mmhm... That's what I thought.'

Beca flushes harder, turning her face away. 'Why do you have to make this so awkward for me?' she whines. 'This is embarrassing enough as it is.'

'Because it's really fun when your face goes all red like that.'

**Lipstick**

'Does my make up look okay to you?' Chloe tiltled er head this way and that so Beca, who had been standing behind her with her hands in her pockets, could see in the mirror.

Beca gave her a once over, seeing little things here and there that made her heart sink just a little. Even if she hadn't been watching for the last five minutes she would've seen that Chloe had spent rather a long time making up her face, if only because of the small pile of crumpled up tissues sitting on the vanity that suggested she'd already taken it off and redone it several times. And along with her make-up, it hadn't escaped Beca's notice that she was wearing her designated "date clothes"; Chloe's one and only little black dress that she had a propensity to wear because she knew it "made her tits look spectacular". Not that Beca disagreed, of course – but she couldn't help but rather disagree with the reasons why she was wearing it.

Beca's smile became a little more forced; however, no one other than Chloe would have seen, who was too busy fussing to do so.

'Yeah,' Beca said quietly. 'You look great. Stunning, even, y'know?'

Chloe stopped to smile at Beca in her reflection – that beaming, broad smile that made her eyelids lower and her entire face light up. 'Thanks, Beca. That's so sweet of you to say.' She leaned closer to the mirror, examining a non-existent blemish on her cheek. 'I just hope he feels the same way.'

'If he doesn't, he's an idiot.'


	3. Elevator

**A/N: The drabble 'Elevator' expanded. More or less. It doesn't fit perfectly into it, but eh.**

* * *

In retrospect, Beca can't really remember the exact circumstances that leads to Chloe suddenly spinning her around and pinning her against the wall of the elevator. One moment they're on the way to Bella's practice, with Chloe seeming completely normal – fiddling around with her phone, probably Tweeting some anecdote about her morning – when suddenly her fist just flies out, hitting the emergency stop button.

As the elevator ground to a halt (complete with some rather disturbing grinding noises) Beca can only stare in shock at her girlfriend. Chloe gazes back at her with a steady nonchalance that's almost frightening. Like she did this every day. Like she wants something from Beca, and she knows she's going to get it.

(She almost always does).

The next thing Beca knows, here she is: Chloe's leg squeezed in between hers, pressing _hard_, her mouth first claiming Beca's, then marking a bruising trail up her neck while her wrists are pushed up on either side of her head.

'Okay,' Beca pants, when she gains enough oxygen back in her lungs to speak. '_Okay_. So this is a thing that's happening.'

'Mmhm.'

'Is there any – ah! - _reason_ that it's happening?'

It should be inhuman for her voice to go that high, but apparently it's entirely possible when Chloe gives her a particularly hard bite on the lobe of her ear. She doesn't even answer her question, just lets out a slightly displeased grunt and splays her fingers out across the sensitive skin of Beca's belly.

'_Chloe_. S-security cameras...'

'What about them?' Chloe asks. Her hands are already at Beca's fly, and making quick work of it.

'They're probably there. Like, recording and stuff... I don't know... Are they?'

Chloe makes a satisfied noise when she pops open the button and her hands venture into Beca's jeans.'This one doesn't have one.'

'How do you know that?'

Chloe sighs impatiently, looking up at her. 'I just do, Beca. This building is super old. Like, Stone Age old. There are no cameras in here. Now. Less talking.' She leans up to give Beca another deep, hard kiss - her fingers applying just the slightest bit of pressure - and alright, now there's a little voice in her head actually telling her this is a good idea. She's clearly lost it. There's no other way she can explain such thoughts as 'Well, who knows how long it'll be before it gets fixed?' and 'Might as well make the most of the time we've got together'.

(There's another, even smaller part of her mind that's reminding her that elevator they're in is tiny and smells kind of weird, and the floor keeps making her shoes stick and just _gross_. But it's vastly overpowered by Beca's hormones).

Chloe seems to sense when Beca finally gives in, if the triumphant grin on her lips when she kisses her is anything to go by. There's something altogether too _smug _about it, like Chloe knows what kind of magical powers she has on Beca's body, and how no matter what kind of front she puts up, she's usually only a few well placed touches and smiles away from stripping off all her clothes. They both know it - but that doesn't stop Beca from getting just the teensiest bit annoyed at the confidence with which Chloe touches her and the self-satisfied way she does it.

And then Beca starts to wonder: why does she have to be the one that's so affected? Chloe is pretty obviously attracted to her, but she just seems to hold it together so easily. Meanwhile, Beca turns into a total girl at the slightest contact, all blushes and feeling weak at the knees. It's pathetic. Next thing she'll be fainting at the sight of Chloe's ankles.

Still, two can play at this game. Beca thinks of a morning a few weeks ago, when Chloe had listened to the mix she'd made for her (a very unsubtle mash-up of every song she'd found on Chloe's computer under a folder labelled "lady jams"). She'd gone unusually quiet. In fact, she didn't say a word for a long time; long enough that Beca started to worry, believing she disliked it.

Ten minutes later, Beca had her underwear halfway down her thighs with Chloe's tongue tracing her hipbones, and it probably would've gotten further if not for Kimmy Jin deciding that was a good moment to return.

(Chloe has now been banned from their dorrm room).

And now, here they are. There's a telltale flush creeping up Chloe's neck, and a noticeable sense of desperation in the way her hands scramble to undo Beca's bra and cup her breasts. Beca might be insecure, but she's not stupid.

Maybe she doesn't ooze sexuality the way Chloe does, but it seems she does have _something_ going for her. Something that makes Chloe moan when she kisses her, hips rocking just the tiniest bit. Something that makes her want to jump Beca in an elevator on the way to practice – something that means she literally can'twait until they get back.

Chloe _wants _her. Wants her pretty badly, in fact.

The idea sends a thrill through her body, along with a sudden surge of reckless courage. Maybe that's why she feels the need to surge away from the wall, to clumsily spin the two of them around so they swap positions. She stumbles a little on the sagging leg of her pants, nearly falling over, but Chloe thankfully catches her.

'Beca, what are – _oh_...' She trails off as Beca slowly drops to her knees in front of her, ears burning from the display of her complete lack of balance.

_Don't think about how disgusting the floor is_, Beca tells herself. Too late. She forces herself to focus instead on getting off Chloe's belt, but of course today of all days Chloe chooses to wear the equivalent of a strait jacket around her hips. As a result, it takes her far too longer than she'd like to admit to get it undone. Throughout it all, Chloe gapes down at her in a highly distracting manner, her eyes as big as saucers. Beca hears her audibly gulp when she finally manages to pull it open; she shoves Chloe's jeans down to her knees and –

And... Chloe's not wearing any underwear.

Beca looks at her incredulously.

'Seriously, dude?'

Chloe grins down at her, her lips swollen and her hair mussed, but a definite twinkle in her eye.

The score ticks back in Chloe's favour.

But only for a second, before Beca mentally shrugs, and leans her face in between Chloe's thighs.

_Yep_, thinks Beca smugly, as Chloe inhales sharply and seizes the back of her head to hold her in place, fingernails digging into her scalp. _Totally got it._

Suddenly there's a crackle from behind Beca as the emergency intercom comes to life. A cheerful voice - which Beca recognises as belonging to Mrs Skipp, the apartment manager - comes over the line. 'Hello? Is anyone there?'

Beca and Chloe glance at each other, unsure. Eventually Chloe is the one to respond. 'Hi?' Beca sits back on her heels a little, feeling uncomfortable being near Chloe's nether regions when she's talking to someone else.

'Ah! Chloe, is that you?'

'Um... Yes...'

'And you're stuck in the elevator, I take it?'

'Yeah.' Chloe makes a little nodding an expression at Beca, as though encouraging her to carry on. She shakes her head fiercely.

Mrs Skipp tuts. 'Ah, that's a shame. I'm sorry about the inconvenience, but we're having trouble getting hold of a repairman. The only one around we can get to fix an elevator as old as this is lives a fair distance away. You could be in there for quite a while, I'm afraid.'

'How long is quite a while?'

'An hour at least, I should think.'

Beca stares up at Chloe, who is suddenly wearing an incredibly guilty expression.

'We'll keep trying to find someone closer.' There's another crackle, and silence in the tiny room as Beca's gaze slowly dissolves into a glare.

'Beca, I'm –'

'Don't even, Chloe. I swear, if this is what it leads to then I'm never making you a "lady jam" mix again.'


End file.
